


Learn to breathe in, and then breathe out

by cassanabaratheon



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/F, F/M, set around s4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-02-05 16:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1824679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassanabaratheon/pseuds/cassanabaratheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah swallowed knowing she was on a precipice and wondered if she should take the plunge. She had already gone so far in the space of a few days. She had discarded familiarity, safety, and faced uncertainty and a future she could not being to fathom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well how to even begin... For Wil who wanted some Susan/Sarah/Cora and asked for this I think maybe a year ago? And this has taken me pretty much a year to do and 7k+ words later I can finally start posting! It picks up from the very start of s4 and then just whatever I decided to write. This fic is in 3 parts. The lyrics for each part are taken from the song What If This Storm Ends? by Snow Patrol.
> 
> Oh and in regards to Susan you have the option of: thinking of her as she is in Downton (hm) or the headcanon that is Geraldine Somerville-esque [thanks Lauren].

"She has found me. She has kissed me. All is shattered." – Virginia Woolf

 **Part I:**   _I want to see you as you are now_

* * *

 

 _Cora_. That slow, dull ache that weighted her limbs and dimmed her thoughts.

 _Cora_. The trapping of her breath in her lungs and the closing of her throat.

 _Cor-a_.  _Cor-a_.  _Cor-a_. The thump, thump, thump of her heart, the blind rhythm that it followed.

_Cora._

-x-

She lay on the single bed with the crisp white sheets that smelt of starch and lacked familiarity. She felt alien, unsure, and fear laced through her once more until she was able to supress it by inhaling deeply, holding the breath for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. She let her mind drift, forgetting that she was on board a ship and already so far from home. Her eyes wandered to the sliding door that parted her room from the larger one next to it. It was half open, a signal to the other should they come back and wonder if she was inside. She knew that she would soon and when she did appear, in her dark green evening dress and hair artfully pinned and coiled, she hesitated for a split moment before entering. Sarah observed her new lady and quietly approved of the image she helped to create as, after all, Sarah had found this to be a certain type of art.

She stood near enough to the bed but made no move to sit there. Sarah had shifted to sit up higher though not to actually stand. Susan didn't expect her to. She looked at Sarah for a moment before she scanned the walls and floor despite knowing what this room contained. There was a tightness about her mouth that Sarah took to knowing that the dinner had not been pleasant for her.

She asked quietly if she wanted to be dressed for bed and Susan's eyes flickered to her then away, giving a small nod and walked back to her room with Sarah following. They were still adjusting to one another, a new code and map for Sarah to decipher and for Susan, a new keeper of her person. Before they had left, Sarah asked if there was anything Wilkins had done that she wanted her to imitate. Susan had given her an indescribable look and said, "No, you may do as you will."

Her hands moved swiftly over her but they were still ghosting the impressions of another body, shaping different curves and lines. Her fingers unconsciously reached for a shoulder that was higher than the one presented and she swallowed hard as her fingers fell through air. A painful thought entered her head; who was caring for her now? Anna or a new face? Her heart ached like a bruise being pressed when it's too tender and she wavered. It was not lost on Susan, who half-turned her head back to her but Sarah quickly covered her lapse and forced her mind to concentrate.

It was an underlying current between them, the knowledge of what they had done to someone they both, in their own and very different ways, cared for. Should they meet again, Sarah wondered how Susan would ever be able to look her ( _Cora. Cor-a)_  in the eye. For Susan would be the thief and she… Sarah could hardly bare to think of what role she would be cast in. Then a sudden bubble of anger rose from within her. She had not been unwilling in this. She had not been blindly lured away only by the promise of a new and exotic land. Cora had all but pushed… No, now was not the time to dwell.

With the final lock of hair set for the night, Susan slipped into her bed, preferring to sleep in the centre, Sarah noticed. Perhaps then it did not feel as empty as it looked.

She went back to her own, sliding the door till there is a foot of a gap. She didn't know why she did this but in the strangest way it brought her comfort to know that just on the other side there was another lonely person. She slept, or at least she thought she did, but it had been so light that she questioned it. Her eyes opened easily and blinked in the dark. It was the sounds she heard that alerted her and as she listened, inwardly she grimaced when she realised what or who was making it.

She could have stayed in bed, turned on her side and pressed her hands over her ears to pretend she did not hear her weeping. It would be easy in the morning to comb her hair and look at her in the mirror as if she was none the wiser.

She rose and took a breath before sliding back the door and watched her lady for a moment toss fitfully in the bed, crying out to some unknown assailant in her sleep. She moved to her, turning on a light and shook her shoulder to wake her and when she did, she looked alarmed to see Sarah's figure there until she recognised her. She let exhalation of breath before relaxing back into the pillows and covers, wiping her cheeks discreetly. Then she glanced up at Sarah, taking a moment to think something over before she shifted – a slight movement – over before she closed her eyes once more turning her head away.

Sarah swallowed knowing she was on a precipice and wondered if she should take the plunge. She had already gone so far in the space of a few days. She had discarded familiarity, safety, and faced uncertainty and a future she could not being to fathom.

She eased herself into the bed after turning the light off and heard a soft, relieved, sound from her. They kept to their sides, a cavern in the middle to separate but, for the hours they slept, an illusion was cast that someone at least cared.

When morning came, Sarah left the bed quietly and she did not look back. Not a word was exchanged about it when she later came into to wake her and, perhaps, it had never happened at all.

-x-

Over her skin, a thin layer of perspiration had been an accustomed sensation that was there when she woke and when she went to sleep. It had taken her over a month to adapt, her body being so unfamiliar to the heat it was now subjected to. Her clothes, the fabrics and shades, had been too heavy and too dark and she had moved with great difficulty so replacements were found. When she caught a glimpse of herself in a reflection of a mirror in the hall of the house, she had not recognised herself. She didn't know if that was particularly good or not.

The house (not as grand as the manor houses in England but big enough) was, to her, exquisite. A creation of great architecture with an inside that was wonderfully spacious and with beautiful and intricate Indian designs to accompany to imitation of Englishness. The first couple of weeks, her room had been at the top of the house but, seeing as Susan required her far more frequently, she was moved to occupy the adjoining room. She moved freely between the two, dwelling mainly in Susan's for it had far nicer furnishings and it was where she most often sat. It was a small household, only she and his lordship's valet had come whilst all the other servants were locally hired. A fair bit of time had been spent asking and answering questions between them all.

There was a young Indian lad (about fifteen she guessed) in the kitchens that she became almost friendly with. In exchange for good cigarettes (he also offered to help her with finding her way around the town and with the language), she was to talk to him about England. The first time she began to recount in a half-bored voice about London she found her throat closing up and tears pricked her eyes. Homesickness swept over her and her hands trembled as she folded them in her lap. Embarrassed and angry at herself, she did not keep to her side of the bargain. However, some weeks later as she found half a dozen of Susan's and her husband's old magazines. Without making much of a fuss about it, she appeared by him in the kitchen one morning and dumped the pile beside him. He stared at them and then glanced at her curiously before thumbing through a couple.

"So, where are my cigarettes?"

He flashed her a grin and later that day she smiled to herself as she blew out the first puff of smoke watching the red sun slowly set.

It was not long before the other neighbouring families, foreign and not, became known to them. She could only imagine the shock of Mr Carson if he ever viewed the lax of certain customs and the warmth and intimacy that was so easily struck up between people. She had worried that Susan would be unable to incorporate herself into this society but it seems two of the ladies, older than them, were more than happy to guide her along. They were, as Sarah observed, fully absorbent of the culture they were immersed in, choosing to incorporate the fashions and styles of India into their own images and even speaking – if somewhat brokenly – a few sentences and words that, surprising, Sarah would one day be able to at least understand the general gist behind them.

Of his lordship, she saw him very little, perhaps more than his wife did, for he was forever out of the house. It was only when they played host to the Prince of Wales (a whole lot of frenzy for nothing, Sarah thought) that they falsely smiled at one another and pretended it was wonderful. It had been so ridiculous that Sarah hadn't known if she wanted to laugh or pity them (she shifted between the two constantly).

However, for the most part, she spent her time with Susan. They filled their time at the beginning with various trips within the local area and then further, tagged alongside new acquaintances. There was so much beauty, so many colours, sounds and scents that enchanted them till they were almost breathless from it all. It was moments like those where she found herself unable to regret her decision to leave England, to leave Cora. Under sun-drenched skies all of that faded away.

-x-

It was in their four month in and they had, or at least an attempted to, celebrate Susan's birthday. A small party had been held but, though Susan smiled and said all the right things, her mind drifted and loneliness came in floods so that, during the pouring of the champagne and the round of birthday wishes nearly she nearly screamed from it all. It was only by having her maid's presence that she kept it all at bay. She could feel her eyes upon her, reading her, assessing her and she caught her eye many a-times. Shrimpie, she saw at the beginning but by the first half he had already slipped away with a few of the other men, seeking a game of cards or anything to take him far away from her. She almost laughed when she had scanned around and could not locate him. O'Brien had come to her side then, bending in to lowly whisper that he was gone.

She smiled tightly. "Of course, he's always gone."

O'Brien said nothing and moved back to the side-lines but her eyes persisted and Susan swallowed down a glass, and then another.

When it ended and all the guests had gone, Susan paced her room on rather shaky feet. She picked up the card her son had sent, his elegant scrawl that she traced with her fingers. Then she glanced at Rose's and stared at the words, short and to the point. So formal that she could have been a stranger. She didn't realise she was crying or that her legs had given way and she was on the floor until O'Brien came into her room, silent and knowing. Her lungs were heaving in gulping gasps and she trembled violently.

O'Brien crouched down and gently took the cards from her hands, placing them upon on the vanity table before she helped her up and eased her onto the end of the bed. She had never  _seen_  her cry, just heard her. She had never seen the way her face contorted with pain or the unbearable loneliness in her eyes.

"What can I do?" she asked quietly, feeling helpless herself as her mistress kept crying.

Susan shook her head, her hair, which had already been falling out of its neat set-up, hung loose around her face and obscured her from O'Brien's seeking gaze. Then she stiffened as she felt her maid sit by her and wrap a hesitant arm around her shoulder. No one had touched her like this for a long time. She breathed in shaky breaths, tears still falling but then she turned to the other woman, pressing her face against her shoulder and brought her hands up to cling to her arms. O'Brien held her more securely, tightening her grip and waited, patient as ever, till her crying stopped and she recovered. She wanted to speak but could not begin to voice her thoughts. She turned her head a little more so that she lay against her maid's chest, hearing her firm heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of each breath. It was soothing and her eyes half-closed, her hands eased their hold and she made a small, contented sound.

Eventually when she looked up at her through watery eyes, Sarah tried to smile but her mouth couldn't quite form it. She suddenly understood however what it was that drew her to the woman. She understood pain, she knew desolation and grief well and she saw all of this in her so that she mirrored herself. She had seen this in others but it was never as soul-consuming as Susan's was. It seeped out of every pore and created shadows that could not be cast away in their eyes. And she fed off of this like a vampire fed itself on life's blood. It made her feel needed, wanted, and so she took their misery for her own.

"What are you thinking about?"

Susan's soft voice broke over her and she blinked. Her lips parted yet no words could come out. She shook her head a little and Susan sighed, wiping her face with one hand.

"Have I embarrassed you?"

"No," Sarah managed to say, her voice a little hoarse. "It will take more than that, milady."

A weary smile graced Susan's face for a second and then she tilted her head to the right in consideration. "Susan," she said slowly, breaking her name down into two syllables as one might to a child. "I think you should call me by my Christian name when we are alone."

_("Call me Cora, I insist! We are too close for formalities now anyway.")_

"Yes…" she trailed off with a small frown and glanced at her hands knotted in her skirt. She untangled them quickly.

Susan got up from the bed and Sarah followed her and waited as Susan pulled out the useless pins in her hair and dropped them on the vanity, not once glancing at her reflection. Then she turned to Sarah and regarded her once more.

"How quiet you are," she murmured almost to herself and she took a few steps closer so that they were two feet apart. "How strong, how  _absorbent_. Indeed… And so… seeking."

Sarah, who had been avoiding her eyes, flicked her gaze back to her and noticed with some surprise that Susan had stepped close so she was now inches away.

"What is it you seek, Sarah?" she whispered and Sarah found herself keeping down a tremble. Susan leaned in closer and closer and her breath fell lightly against Sarah's lips. Immobile, she stood still as fingers gently brushed her jaw to chin, turning her head a little so that eyes met eyes. Sarah saw Susan inhale and unconsciously wet her bottom lip and for a wild moment she thought she might kiss her.

But with a long sigh, Susan dropped her hand from her face and stepped back. Sarah almost stumbled as if her strings had been cut and she hadn't realised that she had been holding her breath.

"I will change myself," Susan said softly as she turned away.

"Very well," Sarah said when her tongue managed to move in her dry mouth. She quickly left Susan's room, fleeing more accurately would describe it. Her heart was pounding and her head ached. She was thankful that she was not required to stay and in her own room, she sunk on the bed, her mind whirling with that confusing episode.

-x-

A few weeks passed and neither spoke of it yet they did not pretend it had not happened. Sarah caught Susan watching her at times, as if she was running through lists in her head about her. When she would meet her eye, she would smile and not at all trying to hide the fact she had been observing her. They might have not said it out loud but gestures, glances and now the occasionally brush of hands or smiles signalled a definite change. Quite suddenly, Sarah found herself no longer referred to just as a lady's maid but with the added 'and my companion' to her introduction if required. It implied an intimacy that they had not reached, and yet Susan appeared to have the foresight that they would.

On a Friday mid-afternoon, Sarah came in to collect the tea tray from the room Susan usually sat in downstairs and saw her standing by the large window. She had drawn back the light nets and gazed out. Hearing Sarah, she dropped the nets and turned, rubbing her neck lightly with her hand and then helped to put the teacups back.

"Miss Watkins seems to have made an impression on my husband," she mused out loud. Sarah's head came up startled still not having gotten used to Susan saying such things. "Would you agree?"

"I couldn't say," Sarah said evenly and placed the tray on the side table by the door, ready for when she'd leave.

Susan laughed at her for that. "Oh, come now Sarah! You are more observant than anyone. You must have seen the way he watches her?"

Sarah was unsure of what she should say so she kept quiet but Susan didn't really wait for an answer.

"If I was anyone else, I might fancy to pity him," she murmured but did not seem particularly upset. "Thankfully, I do not."

"But he would not…"

"No. He would not divorce me, too much honour," Susan sighed a little. "Though honour does not stop his wants."

"Is he and Miss Watkins…?"

"No they are not. Much to his disappointment," Susan suddenly smiled wickedly and Sarah couldn't help but snort.

"And you are not upset?"

Susan arched an eyebrow and cocked her head to the left. "I should but I cannot find it in myself to be. I gave up feeling anything for him a very long time ago, I think just before Rose was born. Not having his love does not upset me."

"Then what does?" Sarah asked before she could stop herself. Susan stared at her and Sarah thought that perhaps she had overstepped though how she was supposed to know their boundaries when Susan kept moving the line –

"Being alone," she said very quietly and no longer looked at Sarah's face but rather somewhere past her shoulder. Her voice sounded strange, void of feeling and her face was closed off.

"But you're not-"

Susan scoffed and turned on the spot so that Sarah could only see half her face. Sarah saw the small tremble in her shoulders and she sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Sarah picked up the tray, holding it tightly as she carefully backed away towards the door.

"You can change that," she said suddenly and Susan turned to head to her sharply. "You're only as lonely as you make yourself."

"Is that why you came to me? To stop being alone?"

Sarah wasn't expecting the tartly response or the way her eyes pierced her. She didn't understand her in this moment and Susan clearly didn't know her. Irritated by it all, Sarah let it show for once and though Susan softened almost immediately at the look on her maid's face, Sarah left her before she could hear another word.

-/-

She found a small red flower resting on the handle of her door later when she was going to take a moment to herself. The sight of it caused her to swallow and gently pick it up, stroking the petals whilst struggling to keep down a smile. She placed it in a small glass bottle filled with a little water and kept it on the table beside her bed. Taking up her sewing, she made her way into Susan's room and sat down. Susan glanced up from her embroidery and smiled to herself as she watched from beneath her lashes Sarah thread a needle. They sat in a comfortable silence as each drifted into their own thoughts but thoroughly conscious of the bond forming between them.

-x-

"That man! That wretched man!"

Sarah internally groaned as Susan swept about the room, ranting (with a few words that  _had_  surprised Sarah to hear her say) and grumbling over and over again. She was aiming to tidy up but Susan was making it damn near impossible and eventually Sarah could feel her patience wearing thin. Then, after hearing her go on yet again, she snapped.

"If you're so bloody fed up here then go home!"

Susan blinked at her, mouth parted in surprised and Sarah suddenly felt herself blush bright red. Silence strained around them and suddenly the floor was incredibly interesting to Sarah as she tried to formulate an apology.

"Let's go for a walk."

Her head shot up in confusion. "A walk? Now?"

"Yes," Susan stated and fetched her hat. "Leave this."

Still confused and somewhat frustrated, Sarah quickly darted into her room to find her own hat and hastily followed Susan outside. It was a little overcast, threatening rain and Sarah hoped it would hold up until they got back from the little "walk". They were side by side, a light stroll down the path, staying within their known area.

Eventually, Susan spoke though she did not look at her. "I cannot go home just like that."

"Why not?"

"It's not that simple," she sighed and her arm brushed against Sarah's accidently causing the other woman to dart a quick glance at her which she chose to ignore. "I cannot simply leave."

"If you're unhappy..." Sarah raised her eyebrow lightly. She would know of course what it was like to pack a bag and leave everything behind. She had done that.

Susan shook her head. "I'm not… it's difficult. I have to stay here with him. Besides, there's nothing for me to return to."

"Your daughter?"

"Is happier at Downton."

The mention of that place made them both tense and Sarah lightly swallowed. She had not thought of Downton for a while. She had not thought of her.  _Cora_ , a voice whispered faintly but she paid it no attention. The last time she had thought of her, around the time of Susan's birthday, she had pulled out the little box she had tucked away in her trunk and removed the items within. A small photography of her, a necklace with a little butterfly and a handkerchief that Cora had embroidered their initials together were amongst other things. Sarah had held the last item and rubbed her fingers over the threads. Cora had been so happy when she gave it to her like a maiden given away her token to a beloved. She had started to cry then, sobs wracked through her as she cradled it to her chest. It still hurt to prod the wound and she wondered if it would ever stop.

She was jolted back to the present when Susan stopped walking and tipped her head back to look at the sky.

"We should head back, I do not want to be caught in the rain."

They were lucky for as soon as they were back inside the skies open and they watched almost breathlessly the way the water drenched the ground. Susan left her alone for a while to finish off what she had been doing before. When Sarah found her, she was curled up in the sitting room reading and she came to sit by her and do the same. Sometime over the course of the evening, they had shifted and Susan carefully rested her head on her shoulder. Idly, Sarah stroked her hair and Susan let out a contented sigh. A gentle tension thrummed between them that they would have to one day answer to.

-/-

Once the rain had started, it didn't seem to cease. Thunder boomed regularly and lightening forked the sky all the while they stayed inside. It seemed not even the weather could hinder his lordship's desire to escape his wife and he managed to make his way across to some acquaintances that seemed more than happy take him in. Susan had only raised an eyebrow and remained silent.

During a particularly lazy early evening, Sarah stood alone at the kitchen door that was open and blew out her smoke. All the other servants preferred to huddle in the servant's hall which was a separate space and closed off at the back of the house. Although a lot of them had gone off to their homes by now. Things were so different here, so much better, fewer rules and without all the prying eyes.

Watching the rain fall steadily, she found that did not mind it as much as she did back in England. She guessed it was because everyone seemed to enjoy it, some of the young girls had eagerly told her how they loved to dance in it. She thought about that and wondered when it had been the last time that she had done something so… frivolous. Perhaps when she was six. How far from home she was, she thought idly. How different her life was from anything she had ever imagined.

Blowing out another mouthful of smoke, she almost jumped when she turned her head to look back into the kitchen and saw Susan coming towards her. She straightened from where she was slouching against the doorframe but Susan rested her hand lightly on her arm and took up position opposite. Sarah looked at her frankly as Susan stared out, knowing full well that she was being watched so intently. She took in the light sheen of perspiration over the smooth, pale skin of her collarbone, the gentle dip at the bottom of her neck and the curve of her jaw. The moisture in the air curled her hair far more than before and yet it looked rather charming, alive and longing to escape the ridged pins. Without thinking, she lifted her left hand and pulled the constraints free. She did not miss the way Susan's chest rose, the breath she took in and that she made not a sound as her hair came loose about her. Sarah pocketed the pins and returned to her cigarette, her turn to look out once more.

Heart in her throat and her body suddenly so hyperaware that she nearly shivered, Susan recognised that there was an undercurrent, an ebb and flow of  _something_  between them.

She took the cigarette from Sarah's fingers, swiftly stubbing it out on the floor. There was a mild look of protest that quickly turned to surprise (and was that nervousness?) when Susan moved into the space, the no man's land that they had always tried to unconsciously keep between their bodies. She was close enough for Sarah to inhale the light scent of lilac and see the way her lips parted a fraction when her eyes flickered to her own. Sarah's pulse increased just as Susan's fingers brushed over her jaw and cheek that so light they were barely felt – and yet it scorched her – and decreased the space further so that mouths hovered over mouths. Eyes met in half-wonder before lips slowly did. Caught in a moment of what appeared as suspended time, the fragile anticipation between them splintered and shattered. Susan removed her lips only to kiss her again once, twice, three times over before Sarah's hands found their way onto her waist and returned all that she had received.

Needing to breathe, to think, Sarah tipped her head back and Susan's eyes opened slowly. She was surprised to find her arms wrapped around Sarah's neck and with Sarah's own hands on her back and hip. She laid her head on her shoulder and breathed her in; smoke, soap (rose) and sweat. She closed her eyes again whilst she found the absolute pleasure of just being near to a person, to her, to have another body to lean against and to feel another set of arms hold her. She was unaware of the low hum of content she made but Sarah heard and it was difficult to quell herself from responding in kind.

After a few moments, she lifted her head and studied her face carefully, mulling over a train of thought that she had never entertained before. It almost made her balk and flee but the more she looked at Sarah's lips or the skin that exposed above the neckline of her dark blue cotton dress, the fear was overtaken by instinct and desire.

Fingers found fingers, palms pressed against palms and Sarah knew what to do even as she sensed the need in the other woman. Quietly, she led them out and up the stairs till they were inside Susan's room and Sarah twisted the key in the lock. This time there was less hesitation in their kisses and it surprised Susan by how different they were with Sarah than with her husband. His had never left her so breathless, so desperate for something more. She tipped her head back to allow for Sarah's mouth to drift down her neck whilst her own fingers sought to undo her dress, picking at the small buttons at the back. The clothes they wore here were so much simpler and moving arms here and there, they broke their fervent kisses to take in each other's bedraggled state. Susan pushed her dress down her hips before stepping out of it and went help Sarah out of hers. She had never seen her so undressed that she circled her slowly, the backs of her fingers occasionally brushing down a arm or up over the curve of her hip. Then her hands were in her hair, pulling out pins and uncoiling the thick curls, spreading them through her fingers and down her back.

Sarah swallowed but met her eye when she was in front of her again and undid the corset hooks and piece by piece, stripped Susan till she was completely bare to her. There certainly was a difference in undressing someone for your pleasure than to change them for a bath. She could let her gaze linger and truly appreciate her in a way she had not allowed herself to. Under Susan's gaze and the little nod of her head, she removed her remaining clothes with her heart being so fast and a dry mouth. She took her hands and placed them on her waist to which Sarah immediately gripped and placed her own on her maid's shoulders, stroking the skin in a soothing manner. She bent her head to find her mouth again and it was a slow, drawn out kiss that had them gasping into each other's mouth.

"We'll have to be quiet," Sarah murmured, surprised to find her voice at all. Susan shot her a slightly puzzled look and Sarah supressed a smile. Judging by the relationship with her husband, she had probably experienced little of the pleasures that were to come. She drew her closer and Susan's hot breath fell against her neck.

"Are you afraid?" She asked when she felt the Marchioness shiver.

"No," she whispered against her skin. "Are you?"

Sarah shook her head but at that moment a small voice inside her asked:  _Cora?_  She quickly shut down that thought that did not belong here and she took Susan to the bed where they gave themselves over to the quiet tempest.


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back-tracks to cover s2-3

**Part II:**  A memory, a distant echo

The risk was great but the wanting was greater and there, pushed up against the closed door of her bedroom, they found a brief moment of relief. After her sickness she needed life, she needed  _her_. It had been rather frightening, the sudden wanting she had felt. How could she possibly feel the way she did for her? But upon careful reflection she realised that there had always been that small flutter of  _something_  for her. She could also now see what she had been blind to before; the genuine and heart aching care that the other woman had for her. That alone had allowed her to be bold and direct them to where they were now.

They held onto each other, hands fluttering and settling all over whilst mouths were so greedy to devour, to fill up the longing. She sighed, panted and moaned and then, lurching away and tumbling down onto the bed, she was beneath her, arching and rocking with whispered chants of  _please_  and commands of  _more_. Still clothed, their skirts were hitched up and tops were parted but barred all touch. There would be a time for that later, once the first moments of bliss had passed, when she knew somewhat what to do, how to move with a body she had never coupled with before.

Collapsing into her arms, she buried her head against the crook of her neck for a while with her breath falling against her. Minutes ticked past and cocooned up here they felt separated from the rest of the world. This was their time alone and no one could take it away, not even if they barged through the door and forced them apart. There was no retreating to what was before, no erasing of what they had done, just the simple delight that they would do it again and again, inevitable to them now as it was to breathe.

Slowly, she lifted her head and supported much of her weight onto her forearms that were pressed by her arms onto the mattress. She grinned down at her, seeing how wonderfully dishevelled she was and cheeks still stained in the pink of lust. She smiled back at her in a way that was a like she had made such a delightful discovery and the lingering question of why?  _Why had I not known of this before? Why had it taken us so long to reach this point?_

 _Cora_ , she barely whispered into her dark hair and the arms about her constricted.  _Sarah_ , she breathed back pressing her face against her neck and entwined their arms, legs, hands as if to say 'let's never part' and it felt as if they never would.

-x-

The house was shrouded in grief and all occupants moved solemnly, some with teary eyes. Only Sarah could approach her, carefully fed and washed her and lay with her as she put her to bed. She could barely look at anyone but her – though Sarah was pained when she had to see those blood-shot eyes and cracked lips. Her grief had been intense and the loss of her youngest daughter changed everything. Eventually the days came to pass when she could smile once more, the black clothes was changed to purple and then to her familiar palette. But there was a shadow in her eyes and in the corners of her mouth. Sometimes Sarah would see it escape and swamp her whole face and she would take her hand, squeezing her fingers till it receded. Those were the times when Cora would turn to her, her mouth hungry and her teeth sharp and there would be blood and bruises across her skin.

Yet, despite the way she clung to her, breathed her in and kissed her all over, her mouth saying  _I love you, I love you, I love you_ , there seemed to be a shard of ice stuck within her. It was like that fairy tale Sarah had heard as a child and though she tried, it would not melt. Cora's tongue was sharper, her words clipped and her eyes unforgiving whilst Sarah trembled. Even when it had all be explained, when Cora had apologised and swept her in her arms, Sarah found herself hating herself for being so weak. She hated that she could be bent to the Countess' will – she who had prided herself on her strength. She was at the mercy of the Countess, like a play thing that could be picked up, cherished and adored and then discarded till remembered once more.

It was the yellow roses that had started it all, the beginning of the end though neither knew it. Robert had given them to Cora and Sarah watched, seething in the background as the Countess began to once more smile at him. When she was alone, she picked up the roses and took delight in ripping the petals off outside, throwing them into the bin. When Cora asked where they were, she merely said they were dying as such things never last. A new bunch replaced them a few days later.

After the roses came the kisses and Sarah began to realise she was losing her. They quarrelled in hushed voices in her room and Sarah found herself crumbling before her. Cora had taken her hands to plead with her and eventually tried to kiss her. Sarah had pushed her away not wanting to taste him but Cora persisted and Sarah found herself naked on the floor, scraping her nails down her back not caring at all if she left a mark (later she would discover that she had caused a small scar on her right shoulder blade). Unlike the other times, there was no relief found for either of them in this coupling and they could not look at each other afterwards.

 _I'm sorry_ , Cora had whispered and Sarah was too, she was so bloody sorry for all of this.

-x-

That she felt delighted in Lady Flintshire's admiration for her skill was an understatement. She needed that, the reminder that she was so damn good at her job. The appreciation of this made her smile genuinely and she wanted more. She wanted to see her ladyship's eyes light up with joy as Sarah did her hair, telling her little tricks that made the Marchioness appraise with warmth in the reflection in her mirror. She hadn't been looked like that in a long time. Despite her years, she was still top of her profession – a fact that both Lady Flintshire and her useless maid knew. To the former, she was all that she wanted but far out of her grasp. To the latter, she was a rival that had to be taken care of. Sarah might have thought to have pitied her but she had realised early on in her career that such feelings were useless to have. She'd be damned if anyone tried to pull one over her – they clearly had no idea with whom they were dealing with.

At the dance, after she cleared up the little business with Wilkins, she sought her out. It was partially as an added dig to the other lady's maid and also because she got the feeling that her ladyship had taken a shine to her. Sarah's own perception had been rather cynical after all the complaining and ridiculing she had heard from Cora and the others. She had watched her and listened carefully and, whilst her sharp tongue and frosty demeanour mixed with resentment and irritation  _was_  true to what she knew, there was a vital part that had been overlooked. It had only taken her a second to recognise it; the lowering of the eyes, the turn of the head away, the holding of a breath before the swallow and stiffening of the spine and shoulders. She was a lonely creature, ignored and barely wanted and Sarah had never known such empathy for another person before.

They had spoken much that evening, occasionally interrupted by someone here and there. At first it was about fashion and hair, light topics that didn't require too much familiarity with the other person. That was until she mentioned Bombay and passed her a curious look.

"Does the thought of travel appeal to you?"

Sarah considered her words before she replied. "Sometimes. A change of scenery can be nice."

Susan grimaced a little but changed the subject back to some story  _The Lady_  covered recently. Eventually, Cora glided over to them and Sarah was stuck between the two. Was there the faintest tremor that ran among the three women? A subconscious knowing that something had intrinsically altered in a glance, a pause, or the position of their bodies? Later, Sarah thought it over and wondered how it would have possible for there  _not_  to have been an awareness (however implicit). Cora must have surely felt it for she had lured her away from Susan and, in the process that night of undressing, she had kissed her keenly, possessively even, making sure to erase all thoughts of the other woman.

-x-

Susan sent the first letter – a note, really – merely to thank her for all the help and to express her condolences. She had been startled by it, not at all expecting to be remembered by her. She pocketed it carefully and wondered if she should tell Cora, a passing mention as if it meant nothing. She didn't, however, and she felt something niggle within her, guilt, some might call it, with a small dose of satisfaction. She wrote back and, without overthinking it, added a new style tip that she thought she might like. That was all it took for a brief correspondence to strike up, short letters flitting back and forth. She smiled whenever she found an envelope addressed to her and some of the staff began to wonder if she had some fancy man. She had snorted and told them to mind their own business. A fancy man indeed, no, she had something  _far_  better.

But soon the tone of the letters changed, warmth seeped into them and faint little images of daily life began to form in her mind about her. They were only phrases jotted here and there and they were not purposeful in their familiarity but, nevertheless, it created that sentiment whenever Sarah read them. They proved to be a small source of escapism, drawing her out of the heavy weight that Matthew's untimely and awful death had created. Cora had withdrawn from her husband again but neither had she immediate hurled herself into her maid's arms either – at least not at first.

Frustrated and at a loss, she had wandered into the library one morning and scanned the books idly. She had never really spent much time in there and she had been surprised by how many different subjects where there. Her eyes settled on several travel volumes and biting her lip lightly, she pulled down the one on Asia. Flipping open the cover, she glanced at the map as her fingers traced a line from England, across Europe and finally settled over a dot in the East that was labelled "Bombay". It certainly was quite a distance… She rifled through till she reached the sections that spoke of the history of India, the population, weather conditions and other useful titbits for travellers. The sketch of the Taj Mahal was lovely but she doubted it could capture the magnificence of the real thing. She thought of the letter she was going to write to Susan that evening… perhaps it wouldn't hurt to ask about her plans for India? It would quell some of her curiosity, she told herself as she replaced the book.

She was wrong. Susan's answers had only opened her up to further curiosities and soon the topic of India was frequent and so were Sarah's trips to that travel book. She began to daydream about it and she heard the question in Susan's words even though she never asked it;  _come with me?_

-x-

"Oh Sarah," Cora sighed as she tied the robe around her naked body. She gave her a look that reminded her maid of a disappointed mother. She could never understand why Sarah had to bring up the one topic that dampened the whole mood of an otherwise lovely afternoon. Sarah sat up in Cora's bed, legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around. She grimaced as she watched Cora turn away from her. She didn't know why she kept opening her mouth and ruining things lately but she couldn't take back her words. They had twisted inside of her and burst out of her mouth as she held the Countess in her arms.

She glanced towards the window and saw that it was raining, the water hitting the window in dull thuds. There hadn't been any rainclouds this morning had there? She had only seen blue skies… It took her a moment to realise that Cora had said something and she blinked at her. "What?"

"I said…" Cora shook her head. "It does not matter."

"Tell me."

Cora eyed her a second then perched at the end of the bed. "I asked why must you always ask about my husband?"

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Ain't it obvious?"

"I don't like to sleep alone and you cannot stay with me…"

"But it's not just sleep, is it?"

Cora looked as if she was going to admonish her for that remark. She might be her lover but she was still her employer and a countess above all else.

"He is my husband. I cannot very well refuse him."

"You can and have," Sarah pointed out heatedly and Cora remained silent. "But you want him."

"And if I do?" Cora asked, riled that Sarah kept pressing this subject. Why couldn't she just understand? Did she expect her to completely cut herself off from the man that she had loved for so many years? Before she even had any feelings for her.

"You can't 'ave both," Sarah stated, getting out of the bed and started to hunt for her clothes.

"Please, can we not argue. I cannot stand it," Cora pleaded as, for however angry she felt at the conversation, she didn't want to hurt the other woman. After all, she did love her.

She tried a different tactic to appease her lover. She tried to still her as she dressed, tried to kiss her and lead her back into the bed. Sarah resisted the seduction, but she did kiss her back fiercely. It wasn't enough though and, as she left the countess that afternoon, she realised that it never would be. She loved Cora deeply (rather pathetically, she thought) but this constant push and pull, hot and cold, was bringing her close to the edge. She didn't want a rival, especially one that she knew would trump her. Robert was uncomplicated (no matter what had happened between them) and acceptable. She was not and Sarah did not think she could bear the day when Cora would turn from her completely so that she could be solely his once more.

That night as she prepared Cora for bed and had kissed her as an apology, she had been startled to see Robert come in. He did not spare her a glance but swept his wife up into his arms and pressed a kiss on her lips. Her mouth went dry and she could barely force the air into her lungs. Yet it was the way Cora smiled at him in his arms that felt like a dagger twisting into her heart. There was still so much damn  _love_  in that look.

Cora hadn't acknowledged her leaving and Sarah managed to make it to her room where she collapsed onto her bed. Her body felt as if bone had been replaced with lead and her whole being ached. She rolled onto her side and caught sight of one of Susan's letters on the dresser. With great effort, she sat up and reached for some paper and ink. Surprisingly her hand did not tremble, in fact she felt weightless all of a sudden, as if it was someone else in her body writing down such bold words.

_If you are still unsatisfied with Wilkins and at the prospect of having her by you in India, I would be willing to take her place. I would like to go with you._

-x-

She left the letters on the side and carefully studied her room which was now empty. Did she truly comprehend what she was about to do? No, not at all. But she knew that she could not stay and so, like a thief in the night, she crept out of the place that had been her home for so many years. She left behind the greatest love of her life, quietly asleep with her husband and oblivious, and ventured out towards her future.


	3. Part III: I want to see you as you are now

On the deck, she gripped the railing and watched the dark water churned and splash up as the ship cut through the waves. Dover was insight; the white cliffs coming closer and closer but she preferred to look back, not ahead. The cool breeze made her shiver slightly, her movement attracting the attention of the woman next to her. Susan's face was closed off to her but Sarah had heard the sadness in her tone when she had come to fetch her, to bring her up to see England loom into view.

England, she thought.  _Home_.

That word made her throat constrict and it was difficult to suck in a breath. Her clothes were too confined, the pinch at the waist too tight, and the black was overwhelming – almost as much as it was to comply once again with the ridged rules of polite English society. Once you had a taste of a different way of life, it was hard to swallow the old again.  _There are standards that must be met_ , one woman, who had tipped her nose up at the sight of them, had said as a side comment when she had caught an eyeful of the light sprinkle of freckles on Sarah's nose. She took to having to use the powder Susan had to hide them from the critiquing eyes. It was infuriating.

She glanced up swiftly as she felt the other woman move and press her arm against her own. A tremor went through her body, the same that Sarah had experienced when it truly dawned on her the reality of it all. As if they had been shaken out of a long pleasant dream much too early. The whole journey back they hadn't spoken about exactly what this meant for them. Would she still be a companion or just a maid? Would she still kiss her and take her to her bed? The uneasiness of it all haunted her. On the ship, they were caged like those tigers they had glimpsed once when they travelled to a neighbouring area in Bombay. Never had they seen such ferocious and beautiful beasts, the sight of their fangs had been both terrifying and fascinating. How can it be that that seemed so long ago and yet in no time at all? How had a year truly passed without them even noticing?

The closer the ship came, the greater the sense of dread and the odd flurry of homecoming felt. But whilst others poured out onto the decks, craning their necks to glimpse those English shores they had long missed, the two women slipped away unnoticed. They stole a moment, buried in the small space of her room, in which they pretended to still be in India.

-x-

The house in London (which was now to be their permanent home) proved to have a great deal of appeal to it. Not only in location ( _Mayfair!_  Susan had smiled brightly at that) but that it had no history thus allowing them, much like the house in Bombay, to create something solely for themselves. Of course the furnishings from Duneagle had been brought down – well, the ones of worth (mostly sentimental) and necessity – but Susan could now arrange everything to her liking. Perhaps they should have downsized years ago. Shrimpy, it seemed, was only too happy to let his wife do as she pleased, considering he did not truly plan to call this place home. He had arranged the finding of the house through his financial advisors and his daughter (who in turn was aided by Rosamund Painswick) and the result had been a pleasant one.

How simple it was to fall into a routine. The house was not hard to learn and in the few days they were there, everyone began to move at ease through room to room. Discreetly, Sarah had tucked a few of her things, a nightgown and other bits and pieces, away in Susan's room whilst she kept up a formal residence in her room on the third floor which she shared with the butler and Shrimpy's valet (when they were there). All the members of staff dwelt at the bottom of the house – that being the chauffeur, two housemaids and a cook. Additional help was hired according to if and when they were needed. It was strange, to say the least, at first but gradually they got along well enough and since most of them bar Sarah spent their time downstairs during the day, Sarah and Susan were more or less left to themselves. Everything had worked out, it seemed, for the best and, during that first week, when Susan drew Sarah towards her under the covers and kissed her breathless, something settled within her. Something that dwelled in the marrow in her bones. A home that she could almost call hers.

-x-

The letter lay open on the dresser where Sarah had dropped it. The words had been so cordial, enthusiastic even, but Sarah could read between the lines. It might have been an invitation but they were not wanted there. Susan had tried to persuade Shrimpy that a trip to Downton could be saved, that Rose could come to them instead, but he had been adamant in seeing his family again. He seemed unaware of the kind of awkwardness that would undoubtedly arise between the Countess and his wife and Susan couldn't very well explain to him. Things like that meant nothing to men like him. Robert had called them, delighted to have them it seemed and Sarah thought that he too must have thought nothing of the situation either.

In any case, there was nothing to be done and as Sarah packed up Susan's bags, her unease grew. She knew the day that she would have to see Cora again would have happened at some point – she just (foolishly) thought she might have had more time. A year may have passed but still she found the Countess creeping into her thoughts at the odd moment. Little things could recall her; a black evening glove, the scent of jasmine or yellow roses. Susan had soon caught onto Sarah's aversion to them and either arranged her flowers so that the roses were hidden or she simply did not order them. It was the small kindness of this that made her feel a tremendous amount for the woman but also ache with the knowledge that still she could not shake off the other one.

Susan was nervous. Sarah could tell by her silence and the way she twisted her fingers in her skirt. She was nervous to face Cora but, more importantly, in seeing her daughter again. In their distance they had lost some of that friction but how long until it came back when they were in the same room? Despite the fact that Rose had seemed genuine in her desire to see her parents again (she had missed her mother – even after all she had said about her), she had not expressed any great feeling to live with them once more. She relished her time at Downton and Susan knew that. She too did not welcome the thought of having her daughter at the London home purely because Shrimpy had expressed, in clear terms, which he would hardly be there. She loved her daughter but to live with her without a buffer would be dire.

Her nerves over having to face seeing Cora were something different altogether. It was not so much in facing the Countess but rather how Sarah would react. She had seen her maid's face when she told her how Shrimpy had taken her aside earlier to announce that they were going back to England in two months. She had inhaled sharply and turned away but not before Susan saw her shock and a flash of anguish. She own heart dropped at that. She knew (although Sarah never said in so many words) how much Cora had meant to her. Whatever her maid felt for her it did not match the magnitude for what she had felt and probably still felt for the Countess. Sometimes she thought she could taste an apology in Sarah's kisses when her mind was so clouded by the other woman. She would wind her fingers around her wrist and tugged her towards her, away from that beckoning spectre that clung around her. Then Sarah's eyes would clear and her kiss would only be for them.

-x-

"It all sounds so thrilling," Edith said enthusiastically after Shrimpy had finished one of his tales upon their return into the drawing room.

"Yes, very," Violet remarked with sarcasm that they all brushed off.

Susan sat in the single chair facing the chaise lounge where Cora and the girls had taken up whilst the men were scattered around. Rose leaned over to her father to ask him another question about their travels and Shrimpy was only too glad to relay all his 'great' adventures. Susan smiled to herself behind her teacup. Honestly, anyone would have thought they had been exploring the Amazon.

"And what of your adventures, Susan?" Cora's voice broke through her thoughts like a cold shower and eyes were upon her. But, never one to back down, she set her tea aside and looked at them all. There was a challenge in Cora's eyes, a coldness that she had never seen before and her smile was so brittle she thought it would shatter at any moment. Maybe that would have been for the best as she had felt that icy gaze upon her ever since she had stepped through the doors.

"I saw some of the surrounding area and beyond with a guide. We saw tigers and elephants and there was a rather marvellous dance display that was performed in the market one day," she said lightly. Rose's eyes had widened at the mention of the animals and was about to ask more about them but Cora interrupted.

"You and Shrimpy saw all this?"

There was a slight pause and Shrimpy filled the gap. "No, no, I had business for the most part. No, Susan became well acquainted with some of the other ladies that were there."

"Anyone we know?" Robert cut it and the two men's attention was diverted from the women.

"You must have been terribly lonely," Cora prompted, her voice sweet but there was an underlying sting and Mary glanced at her mother with a frown.

"My dear," Violet chided whilst trying to keep the atmosphere light. An impossible task.

Susan held Cora's gaze then slowly smoothed her hands down her skirt. "Not at all. The company of my maid was  _more_  than enough."

The tension in the air drew inquisitive looks from the men and sensing that something was wrong, Tom stepped in to change the conversation that the girls only too readily took up. Cora forced herself to smile as if she meant nothing by it and she had truly been concerned about her. Susan returned the smile but, as Cora deliberately took a hold of Rose's hand as if to say;  _you have lost her_ , a chill crept down her spine.

-x-

It was the most unnerving of situations; the ease in which she felt as she sat at that particular table in that particular spot. A year had gone and yet it was almost as if she had never left. As if she had simply dreamt it all. Almost. Everyone had been in a tither since their arrival and, over the initial awkward words and glances (Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes avoided her as much as they could and Mrs Patmore did much the same), the questions started and didn't stop. At first they came from the curious young kitchen maids, predominately Daisy and Ivy, but some of the others too. What was it like? Was it hot? Was the food nice? Were the people nice? And so on and, somewhat relishing the attention and the fact she had experienced something none of them ever would, Sarah relayed her answers in an offhand manner, not giving too much detail which only spiked their curiosities further. Yes, she was enjoying herself immensely.

"Did you see any wild animals?" Ivy asked, almost breathless at the thought that evening after the dinner had taken place.

The Bates had been listening in on the question and answer session that had been taking place, once or twice commenting, but Anna was particularly curious about the dress code and could not help but join in. It was at the point that Thomas came in, a little stroll as if he did not care that she was there or not. But she knew better, she could see it in the way he glanced at her. He wanted to hear her stories as well, and she smirked.

"Aye, them tigers are bigger than you'd ever imagine. Man-eating ones they had," she said and the maids gasped in horror whilst Anna's eyes widened. Admittedly, that last bit had been a bit of a fib. She was pretty sure the tigers would eat just about anything rather than actually preferring human meat. But it made the story just that little more thrilling and, needing a smoke and a break from the inquisition, she got up and headed outside leaving them to gossip over what she had just told them. She had enough time before she would be called to change Susan before bed. The only light was coming from the house and she glanced up at the dark sky with its stars and wondered how it was that it was so much more beautiful in Bombay than here? It was the same sky and yet…

She heard footsteps but didn't turn. She wasn't truly surprised that he joined her. He didn't stand too close but moved into her peripheral vision. She blew out a thick cloud and he inhaled it.

"From India?"

It was the first words he had spoken to her and she raised her eyebrow. "Well, that's where I've been."

His eyes narrowed at her sarcasm. Suddenly she felt too old to be doing this, to fight or trade barbed comments. She put her hand into her pocket and pulled one out, handing it to him. He eyed her yet took it all the same and lit up.

"It's good," he told her, admiring it between his fingers and she gave him a tight smile that he returned. Had they just agreed to end their stalemate? It seemed like they had and he moved to perch on the bench near to where she stood, their smoke merging into one cloud. It was as if the hands of time were unwinding… Sarah shook herself lightly.

"So, how' was it her?"

She gave a nonchalant shrug. "As you'd expect."

"I wouldn't know," he commented and she gave him a sardonic look.

"The same as any other flippin' lady."

"Again, wouldn't know," he smirked and then after a small paused asked. "Glad to be back?"

"In England?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know," she shrugged again. "Was nice there."

He asked her a few more questions both out of curiosity and to keep mending that fragile bridge between them. She acknowledged his effort by keeping her sarcasm to a minimal amount. But then he began to mention things that had happened since she had been away and quite suddenly she felt overwhelmed by it all. The reality of it all came upon her and she had to sit down as she felt her knees wobble. The last thing she needed was for them to give out. He watched her carefully and they let the silence grow until she could speak again.

"The new one, Baxter ain't it?" She feigned disinterest although they both knew better. Upon her arrival, Sarah had watched the new lady's maid when she was around, assessing her and wondering. "She alright?" She asked but he heard what she really asked.  _Was she good enough?_

"'Er ladyship likes her," he said slowly and preferred to watch himself roll the end of the cigarette between his fingers than look at her.

She let out a breath and stubbed hers out, crushing it beneath her heel. Good, she thought. That was good… Except it wasn't. She was selfish. She didn't want the new lady's maid to been good enough. She wanted to be irreplaceable.

She kept grinding the cigarette under her heel till Thomas pointed out that there was nothing there anymore. She stopped and pressed her knees together, hands clasped over them.

"I don't know if you want to know this but," he glanced back at the house and then to her. "She's not been the same, you know? She's… different. Colder. His lordship ain't much around with her. In London 'alf the time."

Sarah looked at him to see if he was lying but there was that rare expression of genuine concern on his face and she gave a small nod.

"Miss O'Brien!" Ivy popped out, making the both of them jump at her voice and she waved her in. They exchanged a glance, each with an eyebrow raised and they both smirked. She brushed her hands down her skirts and made sure her cigarette and lighter were safely hidden.

"When you go back to London, will you write?"

"Why? Ain't you got any friends now? Aren't the Bates' good enough company?" She leered and he scowled.

"Fine," he snapped but she softened.

"Aye, I will. Just the gossip, yeah?"

"What else?" He rolled his eyes and she shook her head with a small scoff as they went back into the kitchen.

"Her ladyship wants you," Mrs Hughes said as she spotted her and frowned a little.

"Alright, I'll go up."

Mrs Hughes glanced at her and then towards Baxter who was staring intently ad her teacup. "I meant Lady Grantham."

That momentarily took the breath from her but then she got a hold of herself and locked her jaw. "I see… Am I to change her also?" She swallowed and glanced back at Baxter.

"Yes," the lady's maid told her but did not look straight at her but rather at the spot behind her right shoulder. "She said you would assist her for the night."

Sarah's eyes narrowed at that and she felt a flare of anger but took a breath. "Very well."

She exchanged a look with Thomas that Mrs Hughes noted with another frown before she left the servant's hall and headed up the stairs. On her way she realised she had not asked about Susan and, deciding that Cora could very well wait a few extra moments, she went to the Marchioness' room only to find both Susan and Cora on the landing.

They saw her and it was such a jarring moment, the three of them standing there, each hyperaware of the other. There was so much between them, Sarah thought as she glanced first at Susan and then at Cora.

 _Cora,_  a voice within her sighed with longing and her name was caught in the back of Sarah's throat. She was still so beautiful, so tall and graceful. That she could still make her heart quicken was absurd but there was no stopping it. Cora had on her easy smile, the kind she did for strangers, whilst Susan's gaze flittered between them.

"Hello O'Brien," Cora eventually said, her voice low and the timbre of it, the American lit, turned it into almost a purr. And the way she smiled! It was as if she had seen such a dear and precious friend.

"Milady," Sarah said, her mouth so dry she could hardly swallow.

"Susan, I hope you don't mind me asking O'Brien here to assist me this evening? Only that my own dear maid has been taken rather ill," Cora explained, turning her large blue eyes to Susan who was not stupid enough to miss the unguarded reaction in Sarah's face at her words. It was a lie but the challenge in Cora's expression, to dare to refuse her, was explicit. Susan tilted her head slightly, a friendly smile gracing her face.

"Of course, and how terrible. I do hope she recovers soon."

Sarah shifted on her feet as both women looked at her and she could feel each one tug at her.

"Wonderful," Cora chirruped and stepped back. Sarah shot Susan a glance who gave a tiny nod and she opened the door to her room.

"I will wait," Susan breathed as Cora walked away and then disappeared inside, leaving Sarah no choice to but follow the Countess.

-/-

If someone was to blindfold her and tell her to make her away around the room on just her memory alone, she would have excelled. Nothing at all had changed and, perhaps most significantly to her, the little things she had done for Cora were still being done. The nightdress was still laid out the bed and the dresser still had the boxes and bottles in the same order. She glanced at the vase on the windowsill but there was no sign of roses there just some pink carnations.

Cora stood in the centre of the room and observed her, her eyes scanning her from head to foot and Sarah felt awfully conscious of the freckles that were still there at the base of her neck and the highlights in her hair. Cora noticed all of this and her eyes narrowed.

"India seems to have agreed with you. You look well."

There was nothing in Cora's voice that gave anything away. This disturbed Sarah greatly as she had always been able to hear Cora's emotions in her tone.

"I…" She began but had no idea of what to reply with. Thankfully Cora had not expected her to as she continued.

"Susan delighted in telling us all of your adventures. How  _wonderful_  it must have been, even if it does sound as if you really were in a wilderness."

"I wouldn't say that, milady."

Cora shrugged and turned her back to her and after some hesitation, Sarah went to her and began to unbutton her dress. She swallowed hard as, once more, time seemed to have rewound and here they were again. How easily familiarity came and it shook her. But she wasn't the only one – Cora was trying to hold back little shivers whenever Sarah's fingers ghosted over her. God, this was all wrong. So terribly wrong.

The dress was off soon enough but she couldn't stand to have her hands upon her anymore. Cora twisted away as she turned to face her and saw the same agony in the other woman's eyes.

"How could you just  _abandon_  me in that way? And with Susan at that?" She spluttered, determined not to cry. There was no pretence right now – her emotions were too raw to tame.

"I had no choice! You couldn't keep  _abandonin'_   _me_  and expect me to stay."

"Abandoning?" Cora looked incredulous at the accusation. "How dare you-"

"You picked 'im," Sarah's tone was quieter, haunted by the past hurt. "You  _kept_  pickin' 'im."

Cora opened her mouth yet nothing came. At least not words because suddenly a sob escaped her and she covered her face with her hands as she began to weep. Who reached out to whom it was impossible to tell but they found themselves clinging onto each other, both crying and shaking, limbs wrapped around limbs. Cora's fingers speared through her hair at the nape of her neck and she crushed their mouths together. It was a kiss (if it can be called that) that was fraught with desperation, bitterness and longing all intermixed. It hurt, the pressure and the bump and clash of teeth. Cora deliberately pulled hard at her hair and Sarah hissed and jerked back.

Cora was breathing hard and the anger in her eyes slowly ebbed as she rubbed her fingertips against Sarah's scalp to ease the pain. Sarah gently cupped her face and the small, soft kisses that they exchanged were aimed to soothe. Sarah's trembling fingers wiped the tears on Cora's cheeks as she sighed against her lips.  _I'm sorry_  was whispered over and over from both women. They rested their foreheads together, panting and still aching.

"Come back to me," Cora whispered to her as her hand stroked her hip. "It will be different, I promise. Only you, it will only be you."

Sarah suddenly frowned at that. She pulled her head back to look at Cora's face. "What about his Lordship?"

Cora blinked and then couldn't quite meet her eye. Thomas' words from earlier drifted into Sarah's mind.

"He's not…" Cora flushed lightly. "We're not intimate anymore. We haven't been for a year now."

Sarah let her go and took a few steps back before she spun around and pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath.  _Oh, Sarah O'Brien, you're such a stupid woman._

"Sarah?" Cora approached her and rested her hand on her shoulder and felt Sarah tense. "I thought you'd be pleased?"

"Pleased?" Sarah breathed but did not turn around. "I'm a bloody fool," she muttered. "Such a fool."

"What is the matter? I have missed you and I love-"

"You love me?" Sarah cut across with a mocking look as she turned to face her. "And nothin' to do with the fact his lordship no longer wants you. Again."

Cora sucked in a sharp breath. "That is a horrid thing to say."

Sarah conceded. "Yes, but it's the truth ain't it? You only want me because of that."

The Countess' eyes flashed with anger and she paced a few steps before she shot Sarah a seething look. "You've always wanted so much. You could never just settle. Except, I suppose, you have now, have you not? With Susan who we both know cannot compare." Sarah looked away from her. "Do you honestly think Susan is better than I am?" Cora continued, eyes blazing. "She and I are the same, can you not see?"

"No," Sarah told her. "You are not."

"Do you honestly think that, given that her husband would  _ever_  want to be with her, she would not turn from you?"

"Like you did."

Cora's gaze said it all and Sarah couldn't breathe. She knew Cora could be many things but never cruel. But she was now, something darker and bitter had risen, had been born within her. Had she done this? Sarah wondered briefly and her heart clenched. She wasn't the Cora she had left behind. She wasn't the Cora she loved. She was another creature, a changeling that knew how to be spiteful.

"You said I could not settle but that weren't true. That was your problem," Sarah found herself saying as she turned to walk away.

"She will never be yours."

Sarah acknowledged her words with a small look back and saw Cora's face, the shadows cast there and the darkness of her eyes. She felt a shiver creep down her spine.

"I never asked that."

If Cora made a sound, said a word, she did not wait to hear it. She left the room and managed to walk three paces before she felt her knees give and she leaned against the wall, one hand coming up to cover her face. She felt dizzy, her heart was racing and her eyesight had blurred with hot tears. She tried to choke her sobs and she couldn't quite breathe in the process. Eventually, her tears stopped, her breath fell heavily and she wiped her cheeks. The house was still silent, unperturbed by all of this.

She reached into her pocket and drew out a small handkerchief and blew her nose before she noticed which one it was. Small forget-me-nots clustered in the corners and she stared at them for a long time. She could vividly recall the day she had given her this, looking at her with such  _love_. Bunching the material, she pushed herself away from the wall and wandered down to the kitchens where two sleepy housemaids were finishing up. They didn't really look at her and see the red-rimmed eyes or the way she couldn't quite keep up her mask of indifference. She reached into her pocket to find her lighter and held the handkerchief out and it caught flame. She dropped it into the sink and watched the flames consume the material, eat away at the little flowers and turn to nothing more than ashes. She turned on the tap and washed down the scraps.

It was over.

The knowledge of this, the absolute conclusion, came like a final drop of the curtain at the theatre. There was no applause or tears but there was that jolt back to reality. She eased herself into a chair and let it all settle within herself till she had been sitting there for almost an hour. Stretching gently, she made her way back up the stairs and crept along the corridors till she reached her door. Giving a quiet knock, she entered and found Susan waiting up for her in the bed, changed and somewhat nervous it seemed.

 _I will wait_ , she had said and the absolute truth of those words came to her now.

Susan's eyes swept over her, the slight hunch of her shoulders, the weariness on her face and in particular the downcast line of her mouth. Her brow furrowed as she considered something then she reached out and pulled back the cover on her bed. She lifted her chin and held Sarah's gaze who was looking at her with such openness that it almost frightened her. She swallowed and sat back as Sarah quickly undressed and got in on her side. They did not touch just then or speak but watched one another as Susan turned to lay on her side to face her.

"We are leaving tomorrow," Susan eventually murmured and her hand came to rest on the sheets between them. Sarah studied her fingers and thought of how well they knew her.

They were not supposed to be leaving until two days hence. Sarah covered her hand with her own and Susan smiled.

There were choices, always choices, sometimes good and sometimes unexpected. Regret was nearly always the feeling left by choice, but as she moved closer to the other woman and as their hands held on tighter, she only felt relief. They lay quietly together and in drifting thought, Sarah realised that this was right.

 _They_  were  _right_.


	4. Part IV - Epilogue

**Part IV – Epilogue:**  I have found you

Both sides of the bed are warm from where they had both laid that night and like all the nights they had shared before, and all the ones to come. In the morning, the table that is set for breakfast has two teacups, two plates and two sets of cutlery set out. Their umbrellas stand side by side near the door and Sarah's coat hangs by Susan's in the cupboard. It was so incredibly domestic, this natural progression that developed before either one had realised. In their house (just theirs now, no estranged husband insight) they were happy, truly so, with one another.

/-/

"Who's that from?" Sarah murmured as she picked at the stitches of a shirt she was mending, not glancing from her work. Susan's foot lightly nudged her thigh as she shifted on the chaise that they were sharing, one at either end with Susan's feet half-resting in Sarah's lap.

"Shrimpy. He appears to be having a grand time in Brussels," the other woman said with a little smile that could almost be described as fond. Sarah, who was now looking at her, raised her eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"I just thought how funny it was that, with so many miles apart, I can almost like him?" Susan smirked as she closed the letter up and tossed it carelessly towards the table to the side. It hit the leg and drifted onto the floor instead. "At a distance, he is quite tolerable."

Sarah snorted and continued her work. Tolerable indeed. Well, the divorce would be finalised very soon and then Susan would be free of him with the only contact in the future they could imagine would be any family events. But both had been surprising amicable of late, perhaps because they no longer had to pretend to like each other and could simply go about their own ways. What Shrimpy thought of his soon-to-be ex-wife's settlement with her maid/companion, Sarah did not know, though she could guess he probably didn't approve. He had looked at her with the same distrust that Robert Crawley had, as if both men knew that their wives enjoyed the  _pleasure_  of her company more than their own.

"You're going to make a hole if you're not careful." Susan's remark suddenly cut through her thoughts and she blinked, seeing that, yes, she had almost damaged the shirt.

She set her work down and stretched her back, jostling Susan's feet from their position so that she made a disgruntled noise. Sarah shook her head slightly and twisted her head to see the time mantle. It was a quarter past three and Sarah thought she could really good with a cuppa.

"Tea?"

"Hmm," Susan flicked through the last pages of her magazine before lowering it slightly just so her eyes peered over the top. "Are you going to do it?"

"Why, were you offering?" Sarah asked with a sarcastic drawl. Susan lowered the magazine further so Sarah could see her full smile, the kind she had seen a fair few times and that quickened her heart.

"Tea can wait a little longer," the other woman said, her foot lightly pressing against Sarah's right thigh and moved up and down. She arched her eyebrow suggestively and Sarah couldn't help but laugh, clasping her ankle to still, and then to slide her fingers up one stocking-clad calf. The magazine Susan had been clutching soon joined the letter, remembered only when she would collect her blouse from nearby.

"And what if I wanted tea now?" Sarah asked with false disinterest although she was shifting closer so that she was kneeling between Susan's legs and hitching up her skirt. There wasn't much room on the chaise, narrow as it was, and one of Susan's hands gripped the back of the furniture for balance more than anything as she wiggled down to lie on her back.

"I'll convince you otherwise," Susan replied confidently, flicking open the buttons to Sarah's dress with practised skill. Sarah's brows rose with a grin.

"I accept your challenge."

"Well, be prepared to wait for your tea for a while," Susan's giggled. She wrapped her leg around Sarah's waist, pulling her towards her and down so she could kiss her soundly, making good on her promise, just as Sarah knew she would. When they finally had tea, fuelling their lust-ravaged bodies, Susan kissed her sweetly as she settled by her side, sighing contentedly, and with the first stirrings of something that could possibly, one day, be dared to be named as love.

_fin._


End file.
